Silence
by Kitsune and Kaiten
Summary: A eulogy for a fallen comrade... Please read. It's short, and won't take too long.


(( Author: This is a songfic based on "Silence" by Blindside. It is an homage to an old fic that I've never been able to find again since I read it two years ago, where Trowa dies of a debilitating ailment, and before he expires, forces Heero to help him live out all the things he wants to do before he dies. In the story, Trowa dies, but leaves a lasting memory for each of the other characters. This is Quatre, giving his eulogy, shortly thereafter. It's not any good, but I've always wanted to do an homage to that story. If that was your story, or you know where I can find it, please contact me immediately! ))  
  
[They won't see the fire you have lit inside of me... They look up to the stars and wonder where you might be...]  
  
We never needed words.  
  
Some people can't understand that. They've never been able to see the depths of the connection we made without uttering a single sound. They'd scoff our at closeness, never realizing that we were truly happier without needing to say so. I suppose that our silence had made us seem closed off, maybe even unnerved some people. But then again, it wasn't for their benefit that we held our tongues.  
  
[They look up without realizing that they're standing right there in the palm of your hand.]  
  
A eulogy. It seems so inappropriate for me to be the one up here speaking. I don't know if he would have really wanted it this way... But I guess he never planned on... this... at all. For someone that I knew was so very alive, a summing up of his short life is a nearly impossible task. I can't know what really happened in his lifetime... No one alive can. I can't hope to understand the measure of his pains, his trials, and his tribulations. But he bore them all with the grace and dignity that spoke volumes of the man that he was. And we are all better for knowing him. Each of us here today can count their lives truly blessed, and maybe more, for having had the fortune to know him.  
  
[I can't explain or understand, I just love you. It's common knowledge that you've been dead for a while. It's well known that the cross is only a burden, with pains and trials.]  
  
Since I... really can't give a summary of his life, for no one knows it, I can only tell you of his life... with me. Some here may remember the first day we met. How even then, the silence was indicative of what we were saying to each other, without saying it. I'd been wholly empty up until that point. I'd been so materially wealthy, so surrounded with people who would do my bidding at a moment's notice, that I never knew someone as beautiful and real as... he was. His entrance to my life lit a fire inside my heart that I never knew could be kindled. He was everything. Some people look at my life and tell me what a good job I've done, how much I've accomplished, and how hard I've worked for this peace we enjoy now. Well, I've got something to confess... I didn't do it for you. I don't feel guilty for saying it, because I did it for something just as good: the true love in my life, this beautiful boy that we lay to rest here today.  
  
[But then again how come my shoes are so light, how come I can walk for miles and still just love you?]  
  
I've never been much on religion. I've never put much stock in a god or in a heaven... I was too wrapped up in the love I'd found to think that there would be anything after this life. There never needed to be, because for the first time, life on earth was better than the prospect of anything that might come next. But now... Now I pray to whoever might listen, to take pity on me, and to take a look at this young man, and what he did for me, for others, for the world, and how much he endured, and I pray that they might feel compelled to offer him a respite in some transcendental place, where he might get the rewards that he so rightly deserves.  
  
[So I think that I'll stay caught up in a silent prayer, because I believe in silence.]  
  
I count myself as the lowliest person alive. I always have, and nothing has changed that. Perhaps there were things that not even he could do. But I must count myself as blessed for being near him for as long as I was. I don't blame god or whoever controls the dealings of fate for taking him from us... from me. He deserved to rest. Even the few short years I had the privilege of loving him are enough to make me whole for the rest of my existence. He had such a beautiful heart... And he shared it with me. It shone onto mine, and though it reflected the holes and imperfections in mine, I was still content in it's light. We spoke the same words to each other, a nonverbal communication that I don't think I'll ever have with anyone again.  
  
[Our hearts speak the same word, so why don't we just walk along the shoreline with a silent song?]  
  
I remember... after the war... how we'd walk along the beach outside of the mansion. Not a word, just the waves and the sand, and us. I'd look over up at him.. Heh, he was always so tall... And I'd think, "How lucky am I, that he spends time with me like this..." And then he'd put his arm around me, as if knowing my thought, and make me feel all the luckier. No amount of war or battle or trials has changed that. I've never felt more secure and safe than in his arms, with his compassionate green eyes looking so lovingly at me. Like he could see everything, and anticipated my every hope, fear, and thought.  
  
[Cause I believe in silence; our hearts speak the same word.]  
  
I also remember the war... How I nearly killed him. I.. I can't take that back, but I wish I could every waking moment... And many haunted nights as well. He never even said a word about it... He bore no bitterness towards me, no ill-will, but only seemed to love me all the more. After my father died... I never thought I'd feel loved again. I'd defied my father, nearly killed my love, and ran away from my friends... But he was always there, despite it all. The one constant in my life... is gone. And all I can do is stand here, and try to tell you all just how much I miss him, and just how wonderful he was.  
  
[We have to prove that our love is real over and over again...]  
  
But I suppose it doesn't matter what you think of him... He wouldn't mind either way. He was like that... Even towards his enemies, he could feel the sorrow of having to be against them... like myself. That heart - that heart of space - is why he's truly beautiful. He had no time to worry about what others might think of him - he was too busy saving the world - and saving my soul.  
  
[But let them think what they want, because I know it will never end; because I know where it began]  
  
We shared so much... So much love during his life. I think... I think maybe he knew. I think he knew that he would live a short life... Maybe he even knew somehow that he was already dying, and tried to pack as much living into his time as he could.. Well, he succeeded. Every man dies - not every man truly lives. But he did. He was perfect, whether you choose to believe it or not. He was quiet, but passionate, he was strong, but he was caring, he was wise, but he was humble. We could sit and talk and make love and with no interruptions or any other contact with any other person for days, still feel right, and whole. I'll never be able to shake his memory. I'll never be able to truly live without him. I'll never feel right again, until I meet him in the afterlife. All that's left for me now is to pray that I might somehow be allowed to go where he is; I probably won't deserve it, but maybe they'll take pity on me, this helpless boy, and let him meet his lover again.  
  
[And my heart still heart still pounds twice as fast, whenever you walk by.]  
  
Goodbye, my love. Goodbye, Trowa. You were the everything, the all- consuming love of my life. With god's grace, I'll see you again soon...  
  
[Cause I still love you...] 


End file.
